


And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

by lunar47



Category: Fever Series - Karen Marie Moning
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Hunter riding, as much fluff that Barrons can stand, but not really, dark mac, do Barrons and Mac have vanilla sex?, happy endings, i'm a little obsessed with the dreamy eyed guy, not very vanilla sex, sinsar dubh nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar47/pseuds/lunar47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a duality in me...Savage Mac, Sensible Mac. I let the savage out to play, deal death to the Unseelie in the hundreds then go home and let lust take over, let Barrons make love to me...no, fuck me...until the want and hunger is gone. But it's never truly gone. The darkness is always there because there are cracks in the frozen lake and the <i>Sinsar Dubh</i> is singing to me once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spink75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spink75/gifts), [alissabobissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alissabobissa/gifts).



> I have not read anything after Book 5. In fact I have only read books 1-5. I thought they were perfect and stopped there. I'm pretty ambivalent about adding anything else to that canon.
> 
> This takes place a couple of months after the 5th book ends.

After the walls fell, after the _Sinsar Dubh_ had been transformed, frozen inside V’lane (for hopefully eternity and a good while longer), after I had iced the murky lake over in my mind…there was relative peace in the good streets of my adoptive city Dublin.

I could feel it in the air for the first time in months…hope. I watched my parents take their place in Dublin. My father, whom I loved more than I could put into words, who imbued me with such strength, worked with Jayne and the Garda. If he was to shape the new law in this lawless land I knew we would be in good hands. My mother seemed less fragile as time went on. Her hours spent with the concubine, caring for her, nurturing her back to health had filled her with a certain spirit. A life essence that had been missing after Alina had died. Maybe she had needed someone to care for, a cause in life. For now she had the New Dublin Green-Up and my mother definitely had a green thumb. She would beautify our city again one potted tulip, one green hedge row at a time. I hoped after all of this my parents would come to see Dublin as home as well. Much like I had. Ashford seemed like a bygone time. Mac 1.0’s world. A Mac that didn’t really exist anymore. Or had maybe evolved past the point where she recognized that part of herself. _And now Mac 6.0 is talking in the 3rd person, goody._

Spending time with Jayne, the Garda’s overworked, hopped up on Unseelie, detective turned vigilante was always a frustrating treat. In one way he always pointed you to the good fights. He was right on top of those. He had his priorities straight. No Unseelie were spared…well the ones he could get to. It didn’t help when your target had the ability to sift out of sight or slip into your buddy’s body. Do you kill your best friend just to get at the fae inside? I still didn’t have a definite answer to that and until I did my spear would stay holstered. Speaking of the fae hollow, Jayne still wanted it, desperately. It was a resounding NO on my part. And always would be. I did manage to wrestle one promise out of him. And that was to leave the hunters alone. No more trying to shoot them out of the skies. I reasoned with him that all he was doing was wasting precious ammo and riling the beasts up. I told Jayne that they couldn’t be killed, they were death itself. I didn’t know if the detective believed me on that front. But he knew how ineffective his men had been against the winged beasts. And on all my patrols at night I hadn’t seen a single incidence of the Garda shooting the Hunters again.

My monsters were safe.

That was a curious thing when I finally gave it some thought. My monsters. It implied ownership in a way. I do not think anyone owns the hunters. Even K’Vruck, the big daddy of them all. But I’ve come to see them as majestic creatures, darker than midnight black, so cold it feels like your life is being sucked out. I long to touch one for real to see if that inky skin is as soft and leathery as I think it is. The equivalent of being rolled in the Unseelie King’s feathers again. I see and recognize the hunters as kin to me in a way. Always will.

I made contact with Dani…briefly. It was short, stilted and rather one-sided but I got my point across.

“Dani,” I spoke softly as I cornered her in an alley one night. Her sword glistened with blood as she swung around to face me. She had just dealt an Unseelie a gruesome death. She looked tense, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I knew she was seconds from rocketing past me. 

I made sure to have my spear holstered, my posture demure, relaxed. “It’s been a long time. How have you been?”

She didn’t answer. I could see it on her face. Read it plain as day. The guilt, the anger, the betrayal. Guilt because she was sorry she led Alina to her death. Anger at me, anger at Rowena, anger at the World. Betrayal because I had agreed we were sisters who could forgive everything and I at the time could not forgive her this.

But I knew the facts now. I was willing to let Dani back in my life. I needed her back in my life. She had been the closest thing to a little sister I had had for a while and just like Barrons collected priceless artifacts, I collected family, clung to them with all my might.

“Dani I know what Rowena did. She forced you to kill Alina.” I watched her face for some kind of reaction. I got none. And then I delivered the kicker, “I forgive you if you feel you need forgiveness. But you did nothing wrong. You were not in control of your actions.”

Dani’s jaw clenched. She moved to run her hand over eyes. Then disgusted with herself she yelled out, her voice echoing in the tiny alley, “What do you know? You weren’t there.”

And then I felt a hard push to my shoulder and I was flat on my petunia on the ground. Dani had whizzed by me and fled.

Well that was productive. Dani hadn’t necessarily acknowledged my words but I knew they hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. I would give her space…then try again.

There are times that I am so glad the _Sinsar Dubh_ possessed Rowena. I got the truth and it gave me an excuse to stab her right in the heart. A part of me may have done it anyways, magic fae book or not. 

And then there was Barrons. He looked more at peace than I have ever seen him in all the time I have known him. Granted that hasn’t been long. But I can extrapolate (a 50 cent word from an old word a day peel away calendar I found in the bookshop. We may be counting in AWC time but I still like to know when in April or May it is.)

The animal that Barrons becomes still lurks beneath the surface. It’s in the way he moves, his grace, his almost feline swagger. I’d say he’s like the darkest panther but a panther doesn’t have anything on the deadliness and presence of Jericho Barrons. He fills a room, commands it without a word yet can disappear from sight completely if he wants to. I once called him my world and in a way he still is. Way down deep that frightens me. That someone has that kind of power over me. But if it had to be someone I would choose Barrons. 

He’s still intimidating, still the cantankerous constant jackass. But when he looks at me sometimes his eyes are soft, unguarded. We make love more than fuck (that was the true word for what we had been doing. I’m not going to censor myself this time). He looked reverent. He looked into me, saw me and all my flaws, my darkness, and still found me beautiful and worthy. I had saved him in some way. I saved his son. And in Barrons’ book that was everything. I think he will be eternally grateful. He told me with his body that he loved me, never with the actual words. Sometimes I gleaned it in our silent conversations but I was reluctant to read too much into it for fear I was reading him wrong. 

He once told me he was the one who would never let me die. That was declaration enough.

As for me, Mac 6.0, survivor…I don’t know anymore.

I thought finally knowing who I was (truly Alina’s sister but a product of the _Sinsar Dubh_ ’s tampering…a copy of the evil itself) would put some of my anxiety to rest. I thought having direction in my life, helping organize and lead the _sidhe_ -seers would give me purpose. But I find that I am lost…adrift in some way. I feel empty, hollow. 

I think everything has been so chaotic, so frenetic, in the months preceding that this lull disturbs me. I’m on edge. The savage Mac inside me yearns for blood while the sensible mac is glad for the respite. I once again live in duality.

So I go out night after night, let savage Mac out to play. We kill dozens of Unseelie with our spear. In the back of my mind I wonder just how close to death I come every night. How much do I really flirt with it? Does it take a scratch from the spear or a full plunge in the heart to kill me truly? I don’t really want to know. But I do the dance anyways.

I come home to Barrons hopped up on adrenaline, covered in Unseelie blood. I am a death dealer. One to be feared. I think it turns me on a little. It certainly turns Barrons on. 

I exit the silvers, or am spit out is more accurate, and follow Barrons’ scent through the rooms of his private wing. He’s reading in a library of sorts. The book he holds is old, the pages worn and falling apart, as he leans against the tall case.

He looks up upon my entrance and the book snaps shut. My beast is with me. The book forgotten and placed back on the shelf. He stalks toward me, circles me. I follow him with my eyes. They’re blazing, on fire with pure want. 

He pauses in front of me and we have one of our wordless conversations.

_You’ve been hunting_ he says

_Yeah and I’m the baddest bitch on the block_ I smirk.

And then I’m on him like a cat in heat. My arms around his neck, hands clenched messily in his perfectly coiffed hair. I’m climbing him like a monkey without purchase. His hands easily reach under my bottom and lift me up until my legs can wrap around his waist. I feel him hard against me. I grind into him and I want more.

He backs me into a wall. My head bounces against one of his million dollar paintings. Somehow I can’t bring myself to care if I’ve damaged it. My lips are on his, my teeth suck his bottom lip into my mouth and then his tongue is there dueling my own. Our own little battle. I feel his fangs. I no longer feel frightened by it, it only fuels my lust. To know that our passion can bring out something so primal in each of us, especially Barrons. I feel honored in some perverse way.

“What do you feel Mac?” Since when did Barrons talk during sex?

“Horny. How do you think I feel?” Wasn’t it obvious?

“Is this what we do now? You fight and then we fuck.”

I look at him askance. This was odd coming from him. What is he getting at?

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all. Just making sure you didn’t”

I pull his head down hard, our teeth crash together. It isn’t pleasant but the point gets across. I have a need to be filled and Barrons was going to fill it God willing. 

He pulls me from the wall and sets me down. I whip off my clothes as he sets about tearing off his. Sometimes we take each other’s clothes off. Sometimes I do a little strip tease. But in times like these expediency was what matters. I need Barrons inside of me. Now.

I place my hands on his shoulders and push. He slides down my body. His mouth and tongue running down my neck, sucking at my nipple, around my belly button and inner thigh. He sits on the ground and pulls me atop him. I straddle his hips and before I know it I feel his hard length inside me. I’m full, complete. It’s indescribable. Like coming home, like Christmas, your birthday. Anticipation where the payoff was even better. I shudder, already on the verge of an orgasm and I haven’t even moved.

Barrons does things to me. He had wedged himself so fully underneath my skin that he had become a part of my essence. There was no separating us. It was why I was willing to unmake this world and build a new one just for him. Something I wouldn’t have done for Alina.

I move, my hands gripping his shoulders. I love looking at Barrons while having sex. I get to see him in his element: in control, yet also just moments from losing that control (to me I wonder, because of me?). It’s a heady feeling. I get off on it. But I feel like he’s more honest in sex than I see him in life. He wants me to judge his character based on his actions but I pick up on his emotions when I see them cross his face when we make love.

But we aren’t making love this time. This is brutal. It’s hard and fast. It’s going to leave bruises. Thank god I heal easily. It’s the best kind of sex we ever have. I don’t want to say it’s better than the slow intimate kind, but there’s something about the frantic pace, the way his animal is just at the surface, the rawness of it…I can never get enough of it.

He’s pounding into me and I’m keening like a deranged, wild thing that needs to be leashed. I want it chaotic. I feel unhinged. All those Unseelie I had killed earlier in the night were not enough to temper whatever feeling I had been circling around. It’s never enough anymore.

The sex was my counterpart to the Unseelie death dealing. A way to make the night last longer. But on this particular night Barrons makes a mistake. Or maybe it’s my mistake but I’ll never own up to it.

“Harder!” I scream and he bucks below me. I reach out as if to stroke his cheek but I latch on to his throat and squeeze. I honestly don’t know what makes me do it. I must be out of my mind. It’s the only explanation. A macabre sense of dominance and Barrons hates to be dominated.

He bats my hand away as if it was nothing and then fists his hand in my blond hair. Barrons sits up, wrenches my head back to look in my eyes. His own are on fire.

_How dare you_ he says

“I need….” I say back, I plead. It’s almost like being _Pri-ya_ again but it’s not lust I feel. Well I feel lust. I always will when Barrons is involved. But it’s more complicated than that. There are layers there I don’t fully understand.

He sees something there in my eyes. I can read it on his face. The way it softens imperceptively. Does Barrons pity me? Does he see the desperation in my soul?

His hand loosens in my hair, brushes it back behind my ears.

“I’m losing you rainbow girl.” He says aloud.

It’s too much. My body is a live wire, waiting to combust. Mixed metaphors be damned. I’m embarrassingly on the verge of tears. I feel the pressure building behind my eyes even though I know they will not fall.

I push off him but his strong hands clamp down on my arms trapping me to him. He’s hard inside me still. I want him…want to stay…want to be wrapped up in his embrace and be assured that things would be okay, as much as Barrons could do that. I want to know that the darkness wasn’t creeping back in. That maybe all I needed was a vacation from the burden of being MacKayla Lane, _sidhe_ -seer and keeper of evil deep down. 

But something compels me to flee.

Using Voice, even knowing he was immune to me, I yell, “ _LET ME GO_!” The words seem to reverberate around the room and in my skull. He gets the message and releases my arms. I get up, dress in a hurry and fly through the rooms and back through the silvers that connect the underground lair to BB &B. I don’t even once glance back at Barrons. I don’t want to see disappointment in his eyes. I certainly don’t want to see concern. 

I brush it off. Mac 6.0 is the ultimate survivor. She would be fine. 

 

-*-

 

I wander aimlessly around the empty streets of Dublin for a while, my spear in hand like always. I visit the Temple District. Once known for its lively atmosphere. The pubs, the parties, the craic. Now it was dead, a ghost town.

We’re going to rebuild. That is a sensible Mac thought. The first one I have all night. She pops up occasionally, just enough to let me know I haven’t really gone insane yet. That the dark hasn’t claimed me completely.

I come across an Unseelie pack, six Rhino Boys. They give me a wide berth. My reputation precedes me apparently. I make to move towards them, my spear hand itching to do damage, let Savage Mac start her carnage once more, when a dark shadow in the sky catches my eye.

A royal hunter…the Rhino Boys have won their reprieve for now. They take their boon and move off quickly down the street.

To say I was fascinated by the hunters was an understatement. _Sidhe_ -seers were programmed in their very DNA to be wary of hunters, maybe even downright frightened. It was self-preservation at its core.

But thanks to the Unseelie King they saw me differently. I saw them differently. I wonder what it would take to ride one without the binding runes. Would it let me? I wanted to try.

As I watched the massive hunter circling above me I called out to it in my mind,

_Can you hear me hunter?_

_Yes…Sidhe-Seer_

_The men on the ground will no longer hurt you. I’ve seen to that. Will you no longer hurt them?_

_We have no interest in small things. This world is full, large. But ultimately small._

_You see a lot._

_We see many things._

_Will you land Hunter?_

The hunter bobs his head from side to side. He seems to be considering it. Ultimately he lands in the street. The monster is huge, easily spanning the roadway, darker than the darkest black. Its breath ices the night sky. 

_Can we fly…you and me?_

He is silent for a while. I reach out and nudge him gently with my mind.

_Does this amuse?_

_No runes…and we may fly._

That is all the invitation I need. I rush to the Hunter’s side and hesitate. His body radiates cold and I haven’t brought gloves. A Hunter was kin to the very essence of the Unseelie prison but were not Unseelie themselves.

But as usual I rush into things and thought about the consequences later. I touch the creature’s back and I have no words for the cold that seeps into my body. I feel its weight in my soul. But I can register the feel of its skin. This is what I had wanted to experience and it was every bit as luxurious as I thought it would be. The Unseelie King was a master of creation.

I get on and before I was prepared we were high in the sky, the pubs and flats near the Temple District getting smaller and smaller. I cling for dear life but I feel exhilarated. Higher and higher we go until the city seems like a scattering of lights below us. Fewer now then once before, but lights all the same. I feel like I could reach out and touch the moon. _I wonder if it’s made of cheese._ It was a thought Alina had voiced once when drunk around a campfire as we stared up at a similar full moon. I had laughed and then we drank some more. That was a good night.

We fly straight and steady for a while, my hunter finds the right drafts of air and uses them to glide. I relax. I’m calm I realize. Maybe for the first time in a long while. My soul feels at rest. Savage, dark Mac is quiet. Sensible Mac is enjoying the moment. I close my eyes. I can feel my hunter poking at the edge of my mind. I let him in a little. He wants to know what I am. Why I smell different than the others.

Months ago I had iced that lake inside my mind over. Since then I haven’t been tempted to go looking at that part of myself. The truth was that I wanted nothing to do with the _Sinsar Dubh_. But the _Sinsar Dubh_ wanted everything to do with me. And I was afraid I was not strong enough to contain it. 

I haven’t told anyone, not even Barrons, but the lake was melting.

The thing about fae objects, concepts, even the fae themselves is that given enough time it can change and transmute itself into something different. I was worried that just like V’lane was the living embodiment of the _Sinsar Dubh_ so someday I would be too. 

I would never let it get that far. I had my spear. I knew what choice to make if need be.

My hunter grazes the lake and comes away pleased. He chuffs and great pillows of icy smoke are exhaled from his nose. I think he likes me.

_Do you have a name?_ I ask

He doesn’t respond. Maybe he doesn’t understand the question.

_K’Vruck has a name. Did the King call you anything?_

_Favored One_

_You must have done something special._

_What I was meant to do_

Kill he probably meant. And he was good at it. Well we were both death dealers now. We were quite a pair.

We continue to fly until the sky begins to lighten. The softest azure just starting to turn the night toward day. He lands and I hop off. 

“Thank you.” I say aloud. “Till next time.”

He bows his head and lifts off the ground. My hair whips around my face. He’s off to wherever it is that Hunters nest during the day.

I feel better than I have in a long time. I positively skip as I make my way back to the bookstore. It’s only when I see the sign that I remember Barrons, or rather how I left him. I don’t want to face him, but I need to sleep.

I take my chances and open the door. Barrons isn’t in the main store. I don’t take the risk of going downstairs. I sleep in my bedroom on the 4th floor.

 

-*-

 

_The lake is dark and glassy. Cracks spiral out in circles, black liquid bubbles up and coats the icy surface._

_The song is soft at first and oh so sweet. It breaks my heart. I’m a babe at the breast rooting around looking for a nipple. I find it and suckle greedily. It sings me a lullaby and I lap it up, every verse, every word. I listen….balm to my soul. Filling me up._

_The dreamy eyed guy is there. He should be warning me not to listen like he warned me not to talk to it. But he’s silent. I remember…I am his progeny in a way. Can’t eviscerate essential self._

_The lullaby becomes louder. I drown on mother’s milk. I’m lost._

 

-*-

 

I startle awake, panting. My heart is racing. The prevailing thought… _there’s something wrong with me_ …echoes inside my mind. I peek gently into the dark place, the lake is still frozen but definitely cracked. The _Sinsar Dubh_ is coming for me. Of that I cannot deny any longer. 

The dream was a familiar one…one I’ve had before in similar iterations many times in the past few weeks.

I had wanted to believe we were past all of this. That we were moving on to a new era. I was sick of all this fae shit ruining my life and the lives of those I loved. And here it was again rearing its ugly head, ready to make a comeback. Because that’s what the _Sinsar Dubh_ did. It didn’t take holidays. I’m living on borrowed time.

I shower, taking the time to really condition my hair. I blow dry it straight. Brush it counting the strokes, taking pleasure in how the golden strands shine in the low light of the bathroom sconces. I tie a yellow scarf in my hair. I put on a white peasant top and my multicolored skirt. I would be rainbow Mac tonight. As much as I could be. Anathema to the darkness roiling inside me.

I walk downstairs to wait for Barrons. He doesn’t disappoint. He waits exactly 10 minutes while I sit on one of the couches in the bookstore, near the fireplace, to make his presence known. He halts a few feet in front of me and takes in my look: my colorful clothes, my beautiful hair, the understated nude makeup, pink glossy lips, the deadly spear resting in my lap. An intriguing contradiction. 

I can tell Barrons wants to know more, wants to know how I can go from trying to choke him last night to dressing as his rainbow girl again. Is this mea culpa? And the spear. It’s more than just my incessant need to always have it on my person. 

“Where did you go last night?” He begins.

“As if you don’t already know.” I think back to his drawer full of surveillance photos. He knows everything about my whereabouts.

“I’m attempting a conversation. Adults have those from time to time. Where did you go?”

“Sounds more like an interrogation.” I grumble. “If you must know I did some flying.”

“On a hunter?”

“Yes, he was very gracious. Didn’t even need the binding runes.”

Barrons’ eyes were unreadable. “How did you feel?”

“What’s with all the feelings bullcrap? You don’t care about feelings?”

“I do when there’s a point.”

“Okay, oh wise one, then what’s the point?” I’m getting frustrated. I knew Barrons and I needed to hammer out a few things but it’s always akin to pulling teeth between us.

“The point, which I was hoping you would come to realize on your own, is that you are not acting like yourself. You hunt all day then come here and fuck all night. You live off the fleeting high it gives you. But it’s never enough is it? There’s a restlessness in you that I’ve never seen before.” He crouches down before me, looks me straight in the eyes, “It’s going to tear you apart.”

I don’t want to break in front of him. I want to be the strong woman he wants to be with, someone worthy of him. But I’m vulnerable to the concern I see in his eyes. 

So I begin…on a tangent, “When I rode that hunter I felt free. My soul, my very essence felt free. So much so that I hadn’t realized how pulled apart I felt every day in my life. One part is eager to see Dublin move on, she knows that the city can rebuild, she has plans. One part is pure darkness, pure rage. She kills and does not care. She lusts and fucks and wants,” at this I blush. _Damn I’m still capable of blushing._ “She’s not satisfied with anything I do. You’re right, it’s never enough.”

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. But Barrons understands. I’ve seen glimpses of this in his mind. The mercenary who killed without thought, who took whatever woman he wanted. 

He’s looking for the right words, maybe to ease my conscience. He does that now from time to time. Maybe he’ll let me into his mind, let me judge his actions and learn from them instead. 

I see that he’s leaning towards telling me that some people feel this way after prolonged battle. That we become accustomed to our heightened state that we do anything to keep ourselves there.

I drop a bombshell before he speaks. “The lake in my mind is unfreezing. I dream and the _Sinsar Dubh_ sings to me. A part of me is listening. The dark part.” I cast my eyes down to the spear in my hand.

Barrons is motionless. I can tell I have stunned him, “Why does it always takes you so long-“

“To tell you the important things?” I finish. I laugh softly. It isn’t remotely funny.

“Jericho, the walls between Fae and our world came crumbling down months ago and now the walls I have erected between me and the _Sinsar Dubh_ are crumbling too.” My hands tighten around the spear. Barrons notices and places his hand gently but firmly on top of my own. 

I continue, “The Unseelie King once told me I can’t eviscerate essential self. The book is firmly a part of me, implanted in me when I was just barely there in my mother’s womb. But maybe I can do something about that. Maybe the spear can provide the absolution we’ve all been seeking. Because when the _Sinsar Dubh_ finally wins, and it will win, no one will be safe. 

“I should have destroyed this spear.” I hear Barrons mumble under his breath. He inhales deeply, holds it, and then sighs. The _Sinsar Dubh_ will fight. It won’t want you to take your own life. And how do you know that will be the end of the book? Fae relics can change. It may never be destroyed. It may find some other life to hop on to. 

“All we have are questions. We have no answers. Don’t be stupid Mac.”

“Don’t call me stupid.”

“When your first thought is killing yourself to supposedly save the world I’ll call you stupid if I please. It’s a bullshit romantic notion. Grow up.”

“How about if I did it because I can’t live with this duality anymore. Savage Mac, Dark Mac, Sensible Mac all vying for a place inside my battered head all while the _Sinsar Dubh_ sings its lullabies to me.”

“Then you know what I’ll do.” He moves his hands to cup my face. “I will be the one to hold you back, to put you together again. To help you find yourself. You and me, we’ll find a way to ice that lake over for good.”

I place my palm over one of his hands, spear forgotten in my lap. He goes on, “But you have to trust me…trust in us.”

I slide off the couch onto my knees, the spear clatters to the floor and then I’m in his arms. This is my safety net. I know I place too much of myself with this man but I can’t help it. And when he says “trust me” I know I finally do…implicitly.

“Okay,” I reply. “I trust you.” I pull back and kiss him soundly, sealing our deal.

I’m too much of a realist to believe that icing over the lake for good won’t come without a price. The _Sinsar Dubh_ won’t go quietly. But I’m willing to try with Barrons at my side. Because he’s my world and I’m the girl who’s beyond all rules. In a way we complete each other. We’ll be okay. Life will, in its way, go on.


End file.
